Hamato
by Sergeant Turtle
Summary: They are all part of the clan, blood related or adopted in, friends and family alike. Short character studies. Meridian sidefling, but not really related to any of the main stories. Just some insights.
1. Splinter

**I do not own Splinter. No matter how awesome he or I may be. (sighs)**

* * *

He remembers being a normal rat. The memories confuse him sometimes, as they are so different to the ones he gained after his encounter with the glowing chemical ooze. Full of strange sensations that only normal rats experience, they are confusing and disorienting, and he does not delve into the deepest recesses of his mind very often. But sometimes, he wants to remember, and he retreats to seek and find them.

The technique is one that he was able to pass on to his eldest son before he left the earth. He still looks down on him sometimes, subtly coaching him in the ways of the mind through the spiritual bond they shared and still share even across planes.

He wishes, as any deceased father would, that he was still there to guide and support them. And he fears. He fears for Michelangelo's happiness – he can see how hard it is for the youngest to keep smiling. He fears for Raphael's leadership – the boy was never trained for such a position, and it is wearing him out. He fears for Donatello's heart – recent events have grown a chill and a hardness in him that has not been there before. And he fears for Leonardo's sanity – the eldest's mind has weakened greatly, and he struggles with inner demons even Splinter cannot hope to understand.

But he also sees how his sons have grown stronger as a unit, and he is proud of the close bonds that they have formed. When he quietly visits in spirit and watches his oldest call the youngest into the kitchen to view a slightly smoking saucepan, he knows Leonardo is no longer afraid to admit that even he gets things wrong. Watching the genius and the hothead in the garage, working with cogs and springs and engines, he sees that Donatello is no longer afraid to be confident and daring. He sees the youngest's pranks on his immediate older brother, smiling as he observes the play-chasing, noogies, and loud but gentle teasing that eventuates, and he knows that Raphael is no longer afraid of showing his brothers that he cares. And, on finding the genius talking quietly to the youngest, the latter shedding a few tears, he sees that Michelangelo is no longer afraid of dropping the comedic mask and telling someone about how he is feeling.

As he leaves the lair and returns to the plane of the afterlife, he smiles, because he knows his sons will manage without him. He no longer fears for them. They have each other still, and their bonds will hold.

Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

* * *

**Okay, so this was reeeeeaaaallly short. I'll see how the others go, they might be a bit longer.**


	2. Leo

**I don't own Leo. WHYYYYYY? WHY CAN I NOT OWN AWESOME TURTLES?  
**

* * *

Blinking into wakefulness, he yawns and stretches out the kinks in his neck. Falling asleep on the couch again – his hotheaded brother would laugh. Somehow the thought of Raph laughing makes him smile too, and he jumps up from the cushions, heading into the kitchen, where his youngest brother greets him with a wide grin and a plate of breakfast.

He sits down and picks up his fork, smothering a chuckle as his twin, eyes shut tight, practically drags himself into the room and gropes along the bench to find his coffee mug, finally locating it and taking a deep draught of his customary "awakener brew" (twice as strong). Alert now, Don sits down and accepts a plate from Mikey, tucking in enthusiastically into the stack of blueberry pancakes. He guesses, from the ravenous way in which his brother is eating, that the genius stayed up all night again, working on the security systems. Shaking his head – he'll talk with Don later – he returns his attention to his own plate.

After breakfast, they decide to leave the washing up for Raph, who hasn't yet made an appearance. While Don goes to wake their "ridiculously-fearless-leader" up, Mikey cheerfully skips into the _dojo_ for morning practise, and he follows, smiling at his baby brother's restless energy. He goes to a corner to stretch and warm up, noticing Don and a slightly disgruntled Raph enter.

Practice flies by, and Don surprises them all by sending his hotheaded brother into the _tatami_ three times in a row. Mikey proclaims the genius "King of the Judo Throw", and Raph gives the brainy turtle a strange look, asking him how he got so fast. He just smiles and nods at his twin, his secret code for '_You've done well. I'm proud of you.'_ Don gives an answering smile, and he knows his purple-clad brother understands.

After practice, Mikey bags the PlayStation 3 and asks if anyone wants to play _Portal 2_. Don jumps over the back of the couch and picks up a controller, and Raph snickers at the barely concealed evil grin that flits across the smart turtle's face. He chuckles quietly too, reading the genius' expression – he knows that Don only agreed to play because he knows he'll always win. Mikey pouts at the exchange and snarkily reminds Raph that he still needs to do the dishes. The hothead just snorts derisively and heads for the kitchen.

A whisper echoes in his mind, but he ignores it – it's a small one, easily blocked out and controlled. Another follows, and he shakes his head as if trying to get rid of a fly. _Be quiet, damn you. I don't need you messing up another day. Another _week._ Wish you would stop arguing. Sure, you guys are useful in your own ways. But STOP TALKING SO LOUD!_

He jumps at a sudden hand on his shoulder, but Raph is nonplussed, being used to Leo zoning out now. The hothead asks if he's okay. He nods - he is, really. This is the new normal. Everything's fine. Isn't it? Raph seems happy with his answer, but squeezes his shoulder once before heading for the garage.

He sighs. Another day, another debate on what to do to keep himself occupied. Perhaps a book… yes, that would be nice, a restful read. He walks to the bookshelf, peruses the row of peeling, musty spines, and pulls out _The Art of War_. Something he hasn't read for a while. He heads back into the main area and sinks into an armchair, curling up with the book propped on his legs. He smiles at the indignant banter of his youngest brother as the smartest turtle wins yet _another_ level, and absorbs himself in his reading.

Today will be a good day.

Until someone decides to ruin it, of course. But even that's normal.


	3. Donnie

**I do not own this genius here. Or any of his family. Damn.**

* * *

As soon as he leaves the main area and returns to his lab, he lets the smile drop from his face. No point keeping up the façade for no reason. Playing videogames had taken his mind off things for a little while, but he couldn't ignore the fact that all was not well in his heart.

He sits down at his desk and buries his head in his hands. No matter how much his body is craving sleep right now, he just _can't_. Thoughts worm into his mind like poisonous snakes, hissing what he wants to call lies but he can't help believing.

_You're a danger to your family, you know that? Uncontrollable and deadly. You're an animal that needs to be caged to stop you hurting people. Like a lion in a zoo._

_They're not safe around you. Remember three days ago? You lost control at that dock house and slaughtered a squad of ninja without blinking an eye. You tried to justify it by telling yourself that you never tasted blood. But you can't deny that you _wanted_ to. Didn't you?_

_Or all those times Leo has to sedate you? Did you ever tell him that you're always barely managing to hold back the monster, so close to doing him another injury? He already has scars from your claws._

A guilty tear slides down his cheek and he wipes it away roughly before turning to the computer screen. Burying himself in his work, he tries to ignore the emotions building up. _Is this how Leo felt after… that?_ A memory of the explosion of pain in his side invades his consciousness, and he reflexively touches a spot on his shirt, where he knows the rough patch of healed shell lies beneath.

He hasn't told anyone about how he was in there the whole time, panicking and fighting for release while the monster ran rampant. How he saw everything – saw the blood on his claws, saw the change in his brother's eyes as he leapt for the gun. How he somehow knew that it was not Leo in there, allowing him to avoid his younger brothers' mistake.

He wonders if he should tell them. He could at least tell his twin. He knows Leo would probably understand – but it's that "probably", that small measure of uncertainty, that stops him from walking right out of his lab and shouting to the world about how he feels like a liability.

And just when he thinks he's about to explode, the one person he can always talk to walks in the lab door. Or rather into it. He winces at the thud, but has to stifle a smile as Leo steps into the room, rubbing his head and muttering something about how the doorframe was a perfect height five years ago. _We were a lot shorter five years ago, Leo._ Then he turns back to the screen and resumes reading about psychology.

Leo seems to sense that there's a problem. Of course he does. The eldest can't help it; it's a natural ability. A gentle hand brushes his shoulder, and he slams his eyes shut against the tears that are threatening to spill. _Don't cry. Don't even think about it. You have to be strong, control your emotions. Emotions could let out the beast. Emotions could get the others killed._

'Donnie…'

That one word is all it ever takes, and he whirls around to bury his face in his twin's shoulder, and though he doesn't cry, several rebellious tears make their way down his green-skinned face. After several minutes, he pulls away and breathes through his nose, trying to calm down, inhaling the scents of green tea, incense, ink and _tatami_ matting that came into the room with his brother; the smells of their childhood that somehow only Leo has been able to hold on to. Finally he can't take it any more and starts to babble almost incoherently as the stress of the past few days works its way to the surface.

Leo, in that strong but quiet way that is unique to him, listens silently, brow furrowed as he sits cross-legged on the floor beside him. He somehow ends up sitting leaning against his desk, arms curled around his knees as his voice quiets to a hoarse whisper and his rant peters off with a comment about how he's so afraid of the monster inside and the dangers it presents to them all.

There is a short silence, punctuated only by his sniffling, for he is determined not to cry in front of his twin. Then, Leo stretches out a hand, lifting his chin to look him in the eye, before speaking five words that render him unable to move until his brother pulls him close and holds him tight as if all the pain could simply be willed away. Safe in the blue-masked turtle's arms, he finally lets go and allows himself to release the trapped emotions roiling inside.

If only he'd known it could be that simple, he would have talked to his brother a long time ago. His brother that can speak five words filled with so much truth and love and compassion that they bring so much healing. Just five words.

_It's okay, Donnie. I understand._


End file.
